


your name, forever the name on my lips

by inchestothefloor (delorange)



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race (US) RPF, RuPaul's Drag Race UK RPF
Genre: Angst, Assassin AU, F/F, Part 2, a little bit longer than the last woop, but i would recommend u do, of my last drabble, tayce’s pov, taywhora, u don’t necessarily have to read the first part to understand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-19 08:35:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29872008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delorange/pseuds/inchestothefloor
Summary: aurora is gone. tayce reflects.
Relationships: A'Whora/Tayce (Drag Race)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 28





	your name, forever the name on my lips

**Author's Note:**

> i swear i’m working on a real life 1000+ words fic but i keep getting dragged back to this little au idk <3  
> yeah i said it in the tags but reading the [part 1](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29850285) (of sorts) would probably help with context but it’s not necessary x
> 
> title from last kiss by taylor swift 
> 
> enjoy xo

Tayce considers burning the small bag of money deposited at her front door the week after. She stares at it in her living room for days after, thinking about nothing but the thing it replaced and asking herself if it was worth it (the answer is always no.)

At the end of the day, she puts it in the bank. This is her job - she extracts information from people, offs them, and gets payed for it. It was her own stupid fault for getting attached. 

She tries to ask herself, _what made Aurora so special anyways?_ The volume of answers she’s able to produce without giving it any thought whatsoever says more than the actual answers themselves. 

She broke the cardinal rule of this line of work, and paid the price. One simple mistake, and she's ruined forever. She can never kill again. She can never love again. She doesn't know which is worse. 

She attends the funeral as the doting, devastated girlfriend. She weeps into Lawrence's arms and accepts everyone's condolences as if she's deserving of them.

For the first time, she allows herself to truly grieve, allows herself to feel the loss of the most important person in her life. She carefully separates it from the guilt, the disgust, the regret, the pure, undiluted agony and tucks all the other feelings away for another day (for every other day) and actually feels the sadness she's repressed ever since. 

She doesn't deserve sadness - sadness is for people who actually cared. People like Bimini, who's eyes haven't left the coffin since they arrived. People like Ellie, who tries and fails to conceal big, ugly sobs. 

Once she’s alone, she can enjoy exactly what she deserves and nothing more. All the manifestations of self-hatred come flooding back in and she doesn’t try to repress them, either. The pain is comforting. It reminds her she is still human in the times when she needs that reassurance the most. 

Before the day is out, every mirror in their - _her_ \- apartment lies on the floor in sharp fragments. Her knuckles paint the upholstery red, and she can’t remember the last time she ate, but it’s the first time she’s been able to breathe since that day. 

No longer does she have to look at herself and pretend she isn’t torn to shreds on the inside. No longer does she have to see the monster she is with her own eyes. No longer does she have to witness just how much of a shell of a person she’s become.

No longer does she have to pass Aurora’s lipstick mark, when she kissed the mirror for confidence one morning. No longer does she have to see into the sewing room, that will never be used again. No longer does she have to imagine just how much better everything would be if there was a small blonde with arms around her waist and a head leaning on her shoulder. 

She’s free.

The relief is short-lived.


End file.
